


A Fever Down in Mexico

by Arkangelas



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angel Castiel, Castiel in the Bunker, Cussing, Drinking, Drunk Castiel, Drunk Dean, Drunk Sam, Drunkenness, Dry Humping, F/M, Heavy Drinking, Lapdance, Moaning, Multi, Sam Ships It, Smut, Swearing, Truth or Dare, lap dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9644426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkangelas/pseuds/Arkangelas
Summary: Your long-time crush on Dean's guardian angel comes to a head when, amidst a drunken game of truth or dare, you're challenged to give Castiel a lap dance. More than happy to abide, the lustful summit quickly evolves into slightly more than your average 'sensual sway'.*Note: Essentially results in short-lived dry-humping (possibly more; we'll see what the future holds).





	

**Author's Note:**

> So my writer's block has been murder for eons now, and as a weird-ass result, I decided to crank this out instead of being productive and working on the novel I've been telling myself I'd finish months and months ago. To be honest, writing & editing this piece has made me realize how shit my writing is - maybe I should just keep the novel on the back burner lololololol.
> 
> But, either way, if you're down to give it a gander, have a grand ol' time, babes.
> 
> * Also, this doesn't take place during any particular season, I don't think. Truth be told I'm still only half way through season 12, so basically I just wrote it with these bits in mind:  
> . Castiel's grace is fully-restored, & he's post-sexual experience  
> . Sam & Dean are just in basic form, current/accurate age and all  
> . This probably takes place in the bunker, but if you'd prefer a setting like Bobby's original house or the Montana residence, they fit as well (the setting isn't gone into with great detail)
> 
> *** TRIPLE NOTE: I wrote this while jammin' out to both 'U.R.A. Fever' by The Kills AND 'Down in Mexico' by The Coasters - if you want a song to set the mood, give either a listen. As for the latter, I've evidently watched Death Proof one too many times (or is that even possible?). Both are suitable lap dance ambience - believe me...
> 
> Enjoy.

You tipped your head back in unison with the boys, letting the whiskey coat your throat for the fourth time in the last thirty minutes.

“Shit,” you sneered, copping a laugh before slamming your glass back down on the counter alongside Dean's. He smiled, giving you a smack on the back.

“Oh, we're just getting started, babe.” You raised your brows, wrinkling your face in annoyance.

“I've delved a hell of lot further than four shots before, _babe_ , believe me,” you bit, returning his smack on the shoulder. Sam chuckled behind you, eyeing him with a 'look out' expression. Dean laughed quietly, pouring four more shots while you turned to Castiel.

“And how are you doing, Cas?” you questioned, giving his arm a small pinch. Clearly, you were starting to feel those shots already.

“Well,” he grunted, analyzing his now empty shooter, “I've been significantly more inebriated in the past, but that's not to say I'm not feeling the effects now.”

“In that case,” you turned to grab the fifth from Dean's hands, “play it again, Seymour.”

The glasses that lined the counter were quickly filled to the brim with caramel liquid yet again, only to be picked up and tossed back in four fluid, carefree motions before being slammed back down to their original positions. You blinked rapidly, steadying yourself via the sink while stifling yet another ridiculous, impulsive giggle.

_So it's gonna be one of those nights._

_This should be good._

You could already feel three sets of drunken, entertained eyes on you as you took a number of questionable steps back from the sink and toward the living room, an obvious mission in mind. You waved a commanding finger behind you until a chorus of chuckles and misaligned footsteps obediently followed. Eventually positioning yourself backward on a wooden chair, you watched through hazy eyes as Sam and Castiel plopped onto the couch, leaving Dean to mimic your position on another chair beside you. The four of you facing each other, you all started to browse your thoughts for a creative source of drunken entertainment.

“Twister?” Dean suggested through pursed lips, giving you a wink. You quickly gave his shoulder a punch.

“That's a hell no from me – I struggled enough just getting onto this chair, thank you,” you admitted, earning a defeated pout from Dean while Sam chuckled in the background.

“We could shoot things,” Sam suggested, shrugging his shoulders with an alarming nonchalance. You widened your eyes at Dean with a surprised smile, the two of you sharing a laugh before he scolded his younger brother.

“Yeah, right, like we're about to hand a loaded weapon over to a drunken titan,” he cackled, shaking his head firmly.

“We could just drink more,” Cas suddenly piped in, bereft tone and all.

Your eyes fluttered upward in thought for a split second before you happily abided, picking the fifth you'd toted into the living area up from beside your foot, tilting it back and taking a hefty, bitter pull before passing it off to Dean. The whiskey made its rounds, eventually reaching Castiel, who you'd incidentally never seen paw at bottle of alcohol before now. You looked on with fascination, resting your head on your arms that lay draped across the neck of the chair as the angel casually tipped the bottle back for an impressive amount of time. Something about the way his muscles were surprisingly loosened, along with the way he downed the biting booze with enough ease to shame both you and the boys, just struck you as uncharacteristically dominant.

“And we'll continue to do so,” you finally spoke up, “while we play truth or dare.”

Expecting to hear a combination of moans and groans, you raised your brows in surprise when your statement was met with a quiet but upbeat chorus of nods and humorously willing grunts of approval.

_Wow, we must really be trashed._

“Alright,” you began, uprooting yourself from your chair and taking a moment to readjust before sauntering over to Castiel to retrieve the whiskey bottle.

You hovered over him an extra moment, analyzing him while he watched you through narrowed eyes and a tiny, albeit smug, grin, before swiping the bottle and rewarding yourself with another pull.

 _God_ he was beautiful. It was almost agonizing. Relatively speaking, you were well aware that Sam and Dean were also nothing short of model-like, but Castiel seemed as though he was just in another league entirely. Try as you might, you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was about him that drove you up the wall – be it the iconic trench coat, the perpetual sex hair, or the uptight accountant drapery he was always wrapped up in. But regardless of what it was, your subconscious sure was doing a number on you this evening. You bit your lip ever so slightly, staring down at him while you pulled the bottle back from your lips, watching as he exaggerated the opening between his legs ever so slightly, holding your eye.

Sam cleared his throat suddenly, breaking your concentration with a cheeky smile. You spun around on your heel, shoving the liquor in Dean's direction.

“You first, kiddo.”

 

\- - -

 

The evening's antics played out better than you'd anticipated. You'd long lost count of the amount of pulls and shots taken between the four of you, resulting in the opening of a secondary bottle of booze and a number of shattered shooters. Surprisingly enough, the game had so far consisted of more tidbits of honesty than actual dares; Dean confessed to numerous, odd sexual preferences, the more unseemly places he'd had sex in, and his darkest porn preferences, while Sam was grilled about his own kinkiest fantasies, his biggest turn-ons, and his most sensitive “pressure points”. You and Cas had been a little more daring, both proving your target practice skills indoors via pistol and shot glass when dared by Sam, as well as your shared ability to tongue tie at least 8 cherry stems in a row. Truth-wise, you wound up obligated to do your best in describing the difference between the extensiveness of the female orgasm versus the male, as well as whether or not you'd ever made out with another woman, and the locations of your own “sweet spots”. But it was Castiel's confessions that forced the game in a slightly different, less innocent direction, following his tame confessions about finding a number of female angels in the garrison attractive during his command, along with his preference for longer hair on women.

Unsatisfied with his best friend's short track record with women in general, Dean decided to step in on his behalf.

“Cas, buddy – I love you, s'I gotta do this for you,” he rambled, chuckling maniacally before propping himself up on his feet and giving your arm a tug, pulling you up out of your chair. He gestured the angel over to the seat beside yours, guiding him toward you while stripping him of his jacket. You looked onward, nibbling at your lip as the angel's crisp white shirt and blue tie were revealed from beneath the confines of his long coat, triggering a train of dirty thoughts. He stood before you, slightly unsteady, confusedly watching as Dean removed his top layer of clothing before tossing it on the back of the couch next to Sam, before he took a satisfied seat opposite his brother.

“Alright, Cas, why don't you turn that chair t'ward her and take a seat,” Dean recommended. The arrogance of this revelation of an idea came rolling off of his tongue with each drunken word.

“And as for you,” he smirked, pointing a finger in your direction, “get your ass outta that chair and shove it aside.” You raised a skeptical brow before following orders and shifting your chair well out of the way while the angel in front of you obediently sat down, legs noticeably splayed yet again. He looked up at you expectantly, leaving you to wonder if the naughty twinkle in his  eyes was just a figment of your wanton imagination or in fact a reality. You readjusted your affected vision, turning to Dean, who was incidentally rubbing his hands together with sick satisfaction while Sam nursed the fifth to his right.

“Now,” he pinched his fingers, leaning back to drape either arm across the back of the couch, “give him a lap dance.”

Your head snapped to the side.

“What are you, my pimp?” you snapped, doing your best to at least make it look as though this wasn't something you actually _wanted_ , and badly.

"And make it a damn _good_ one."

Dean gave you another smug wink before you turned to Cas, only to see him swallow with the subtlest bit of nerve for the first time during an evening full of heavy drinking. You couldn't help but laugh to yourself, eyeing him while he firmly fixed his hands on either thigh. He made no effort to fight Dean's order, but rather waited patiently for someone else to move forward with the movement.

“Here,” you offered, yanking the whiskey from Sam's hands and thrusting it into the angel's, “you're gonna need this.”

With a hefty swig, he tossed back yet another shot's worth of liquor before handing the bottle back to you. You gave it a toss yourself, passing it back to an evermore smug Dean before you slid back to Cas, managing your drunken legs delicately over either side of his own, wrapping your arms around his neck while you comfortably straddled him. His jaw slackened as you ruffled a hand through his soft, dark hair with a wink of your own. The rate at which his chest rose and fell quickened, making you giggle. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his ear with a whisper.

“Relax.” You heard Sam huff in disbelief while Dean continued to lay back in satisfaction, grinning from ear to ear.

“Boy, Cas, are you gonna thank me for this...”

You stood slowly, giving your hair a defiant toss over your shoulder just as Dean decided to rattle the room with a soundtrack.

In a small series of acts, you rolled the top of your shorts over a handful of times before tying your oversized t-shirt in a high knot, leaving you to do your work scantily clad.

Your thighs grazed either side of his own as you drew back, stepping in reverse until you were no longer standing directly over him. You slid your hands down from his shoulders and along the length of his arms until you reached his hips, giving them a squeeze until they bucked forward. Dragging your nails down his inner thighs until you reached his knees, you crouched between his legs, arching your back and dipping down before slithering back up, rolling your body until you came face to face with the angel. You smirked at his heightened pulse, your cheeks met with quick, small puffs of air escaping his open lips. You bit your own, keeping your nose barely pressed to his as you moved your hips back, splaying them and bringing them forward again until you were straddling him for a second time.

Hands in his hair and back arched, you began slowly circling your hips, grinding into his lap. You lowered your nose, running your lips along his cheek and temple, steadily moving to his ear and neck. He shuddered, earning a wry smile from you before continuing to trace your lips along his jaw line while you pressed your revolving hips even further into his lap. With a final nip at his chin, you tossed your head back, rolling your chest forward and into his own. Before you could do anything to stop it, a small moan escaped your lips when you realized just how hard he was beneath you. The region between your legs quickly flooded, earning a gasp from you, sure you were bound to soak through to his slacks in no time.

You flung your head forward again, speeding up your grind while you locked eyes, letting your hands dance through his bedhead while he watched you with mischievous eyes through dangerously lowered lashes. Your nethers began to pulsate when you realized he was no longer anywhere near nervous, but _hungry_.

You slowly stood again, shimmying your legs until you were standing between his thighs. On your heel you spun, bending over at a glacial pace until only your ass was in the air, pushed firmly into what could only be construed as his own pulsating member. You stretched, crawling forward along the wood panels beneath you, curving your back until you stomach nearly touched the floor below before you rose back up between Cas' legs, pressing your back into his chest while you perched your ass in his lap.

Relaxing your head back onto his shoulder, you couldn't help but cackle at the familiar, rapid rise and fall of his chest as his endless sighs unloaded in your ear. You hummed at the feeling of his scruff teasing your neck, chewing your lower lip as you restarted the hypnotic swiveling of your hips. Pushing back, you slowly ground into his yearning member while you silently moaned, fully aware of the fact that the lace between your legs was about to combust. Raising your hands from their loosely draped position on either side of his legs, you ran them across his knees and slowly back up his thighs until they eventually reached his black strands. With a series of tugs, you pulled his head back ever so slightly, earning a moan you were sure he'd been holding back for the last couple of minutes. You grinned, opening your mouth and sliding your tongue along the lobe of his ear.

He sighed loudly, taking you by surprise with his next move. As your hips continued to spin in his throbbing lap, he let out a low growl, suddenly clamping his hands down your hips, following their circular movements. You gasped, arching your back when you felt his hips buck forward again, clenching your jaw in restraint as he gradually added pressure to your hips, taking control and guiding them in slower, deeper circles, dragging your drenched sex along the length of his staff with agonizing forbearance until you nearly screamed. Your knees struggled to keep you upright as your mind flooded with lust, Castiel's package nearly escaping the confines of his slacks as it slowly stroked the length of your swollen clit, forcing your mouth open and head back in amazement. The blades of your shoulders pushed further back, pressing into his chest while his hips continued to buck beneath you, his deadly grip on your hips practically forcing him inside of your aching mound.

Pulling on the reins, you gradually lifted your hips from his own and brought your lips back together, finally arching forward and bending outward from his lap until you could turn back to face him, bent over with hands on his knees. He looked at you with ravenous eyes, leaving you to reflect his earlier smug grin. You gave his nose another faint touch with your own as you began to sway your hips from side to side, turning in slow, rolling circles until the song finally came to an end.

A cough sounded from your left, causing you to whip your head around in shock. To your complete absence of mind, there sat an equally dumbfounded Sam and Dean, both leaning intently forward with hands on knees.

“Um-” Sam stuttered, clearly exerting most of his concentration into swallowing.

“Holy. Shit.” You huffed at Dean's monotonous exclamation, unaware of how out of breath you were until you'd finally climbed completely out of Castiel's lap. Dean looked at you with completely unregistered disbelief, blinking at rapid speed.

You smiled wryly, tipping your nose up out of pride while you peaked at the worn angel still planted in the chair beside you. He sat slouched, looking completely defeated with mouth agape and legs splayed, his hair wildly sticking out in every direction while beads of sweat delicately glistened from areas you were lucky enough to see skin exposed from. You sucked your cheeks inward.

He looked ravaged, almost. With another tug of your lip, you turned to him. He slowly stood, raising his nose to you as he walked forward, towering over you more than he ever had before. He had a rare swagger in his walk as he ambled forward, stopping within a mere half inch from you. You straightened up slowly, tilting your head back to face him directly.

Out of your peripheral you could see Sam and Dean exchange paranoid glances before quickly standing up, grunting indecipherable words at one another, and hurriedly plodding off to their respective bedrooms, Dean with whiskey in hand.

You eyed the beautiful being before you, peering into his celestial eyes with the desire that was now overwhelming you. Your eyes danced all over his face as he formed a domineering smile, forcing you to raise your brows in willing submission. With a small gesture, he raised his left hand, resting his fingers under your chin as his thumb traced over your lower lip, gently tugging it downward with another animalistic growl.

And with that loaded touch, another moan escaped your lips.

**Author's Note:**

> * Please let me know if I should add any necessary tags, trigger warnings, etc. that I may have missed. They often scape my mind, so just give me a little shout if need be!
> 
> *** TRIPLE NOTE: This obviously ends on a bit of a cliff hanger because I'm juggling a few things at the moment (but I made enough time to spit out the head of a smut scene, lmao), BUT, if you enjoyed it pleaaaase let me know, because I'd love to add onto this a secondary, extensive, full-on sex scene between the reader and Cas if its worth while. Just hit me up in the comments, pets.
> 
> Love.


End file.
